


Hold Me

by Ellen Smithee (ellensmithee)



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-13
Updated: 2011-03-13
Packaged: 2017-10-16 22:28:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/170048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellensmithee/pseuds/Ellen%20Smithee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damon and Alaric share a moment. Or a few.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold Me

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers up to and including Ep. 2x07 "Masquerade."

Alaric turned off the ignition and leaned back in the car seat, rubbing the back of his neck. After the events at the Lockwood's masquerade ball earlier, he wasn't sure he should leave Jenna and Jeremy alone at the house, but Jeremy had assured him that Elena was all right and probably staying with Stefan or Bonnie and the threat posed by Katherine had been effectively neutralized for the time being. Still some instinct told him their troubles weren't over by a long shot.

With a sigh, he got out of the car and headed up the walk. He stopped as a shadow separated from the side of the building and moved into his path. He reached nonchalantly into his pocket, in which he had a stake, and waited.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Rick. Hurry up, I need a drink."

 _Damon_. Alaric relaxed and retrieved his keys from his pocket instead.

"What happened to your own well-stocked bar?" he said, raising a brow as he brushed past Damon on his way to his front door.

" _You're_ here," Damon said with a shrug. Alaric glanced back at Damon with a raised brow and then pushed open the door, tossing the keys on the table next to the door and kicking off his shoes on his way to the kitchen. He didn't check to see if Damon had followed, but he heard the front door click closed, followed by the creak of a chair.

He returned from the kitchen with a bottle of bourbon and two glasses, setting them on the coffee table and then sitting down on the couch across from Damon. He poured the whiskey into the glasses, slid Damon's glass across the table towards him, and then picked up his own glass, cradling it as he slouched against the back of the couch. Closing his eyes to slits, he pretended to rest them as he observed Damon. Damon's shoulders were tense and he had that blank look on his face that he only got when he was trying--with a modicum of success--to hide his emotions.

"Katherine is in the tomb," Damon said suddenly, his tone matter-of-fact. "I put her there."

"I know. Jeremy told me you were gonna." Alaric sipped his bourbon and then looked up. "It was the right thing to do, Damon."

Damon rolled his eyes. "And I'm just all about doing the right thing, aren't I, Rick?"

 _You are when Elena is involved._

Tamping down an odd spark of irritation, Alaric left the thought unsaid. He suspected Damon had come by for some sort of comfort after everything that had happened earlier, and he figured it was up to him to be Damon's friend tonight and not his sparring partner.

Alaric leaned his head against the back of the couch as he gazed at Damon.

"Sometimes, you seem to be," he said with a small smile.

Damon stared at him for a long moment, his expression inscrutable.

"Why aren't you with Jenna tonight, Rick?" he asked finally.

Alaric raised his brows in surprise and then shrugged.

"She needs her rest. Jeremy is with her."

"My, aren't you a considerate boyfriend." Damon knocked back the rest of his drink.

Alaric's eyes narrowed.

"I don't think I like your tone, Damon," he said. "Just what are you implying?"

"Oh, nothing." Damon leaned forward and poured himself another glass of bourbon. "It's just, you left your recently stabbed girlfriend home with her nephew and now you're here with me. Why is that?"

Alaric's jaw clenched as he glared at Damon, his resolve to be Damon's 'friend' for the evening forgotten. He slammed his glass onto the coffee table, sloshing the whiskey over the sides, and then got to his feet.

"I'm not gonna sit here and listen to this," he said in a low voice. "You can see yourself out."

He turned away and stalked out of the room--or tried to, at least. He hadn't gotten very far when he suddenly found himself slammed against the wall, a hard body pressed against his back. He winced in pain and tried to buck Damon off him, but Damon was immovable.

"Fuck, Damon!" he snarled. "Get off me!"

Damon pulled away, but only far enough to whirl Alaric around in his arms until he was facing Damon. Alaric breathed shallowly through his nose and clenched his fists to hide their trembling as Damon pressed against him, seeming to touch him _everywhere_.

"I've been drinking vervain."

Damon rolled his eyes.

"Of _course_ you have," he said. "But there are other fun things we can do." He reached down to palm Alaric's crotch, eliciting a gasp from the other man.

"Damon!" Alaric tried to move away, but Damon was holding him fast. "What the fuck?"

"'Fuck' is the operative word here, Rick." He squeezed Alaric's cock, which, Alaric realized to his consternation, was rapidly hardening. "I can show you things sweet little Jenna or Isobel never even _dreamed_ of."

At the mention of Jenna, Alaric struggled as he tried to push Damon away.

"No," he said firmly. "I can't do that to her. Let me _go_ , Damon."

Damon released Alaric's cock and his face went blank again. Alaric tensed, uncertain of what the vampire's reaction would be. Then Damon drew away and Alaric relaxed, letting out a sigh of relief through his nose as he started to shimmy to the side in an attempt to escape. Before he got far, however, Damon grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him up against the wall again, smashing his lips against Alaric's and then pressing his tongue inside, plundering Alaric's mouth. Alaric struggled in vain for a moment, but Damon's mouth was hot and hard and tasted of bourbon and slid across his just _so_.

Alaric's resistance crumbled.

He whimpered, his hands fisting Damon's shirt as he pulled the other man closer, deepening the kiss, all thoughts of Jenna completely flown. As his erection brushed against Damon's hip, he gasped into Damon's mouth and then muttered an obscenity as Damon laughed softly.

" _Please_ ," he breathed and then suddenly his prick was out of his pants and in Damon's hand and-- _holy fuck_ \--it was _brilliant_.

"I wouldn't've pegged you as such a slut, Rick."

As Damon spoke, his other hand grabbed Alaric's and guided it to his own fly. Alaric's fingers fumbled as he tried to open it, but finally he was able to reach inside Damon's pants and grasp his erection.

Damon made a noise deep in his throat and Alaric almost came on the spot. His lips sought out Damon's once more as shifted his hips until their pricks were touching, wrapping his hand around both. He started to move, driving his cock into his fist and against Damon's erection with each thrust.

"Oh, fuck, _Rick_!" Damon said his name breathlessly, punctuated with gasps and moans and whimpers.

The realization that _he_ was the one who was making Damon come undone drove Alaric over the edge and he started to come. With a low grown, his eyes fell closed as he dug his hand into Damon's shoulder, his entire body shuddering as he spurted. Damon's body went rigid and Alaric was vaguely aware that the other man was coming as well, sharp fangs grazing his throat for a second before they withdrew.

Finally, Alaric collapsed against the wall, watching Damon with wary eyes. His face had returned to normal after vamping out, and Alaric sagged in relief. For his part, Damon gazed at him for a long moment, his expression unreadable, and then reached over to pat Alaric's face with his clean hand.

"Time for another drink." The tone of smug satisfaction in Damon's voice made Alaric's jaw clench slightly in annoyance, but he felt too lethargic to protest.

Damon wiped their combined semen off his hand on Alaric's shirt and then headed back to the couch, his shoulders and gait noticeably more relaxed than when he'd arrived, and picked up the bottle. He turned back to Alaric, raising a questioning brow as he reached down to pour.

"You coming?"

Alaric stared at him for a second and then nodded, holding up his dirty hand in explanation as he nodded in the direction of the bathroom.

"In a minute. Let me get cleaned up." The steadiness of his voice surprised him; it sounded strong in contrast with the confusion churning inside him.

Damon just smirked in response, but Alaric just rolled his eyes and then headed to his bedroom, grabbing a t-shirt and sweats and then proceeding to the bathroom. Undressing, he tossed his shirt and jeans in the hamper and then washed his hands. He splashed his face with water and then stared at his reflection in the mirror, wracked with guilt and regret about what he'd just done to Jenna, but also filled with an odd excitement, anticipation even.

"What the fuck are you doing, Rick?" he muttered, shaking his head.

Turning away from the sink, he quickly pulled on the clean clothes and opened the bathroom door, stepping in the hall. The lights from the living room dimly lit the hall, and he hesitated, uncertain whether he should accept Damon's wordless offer of a truce or kick him out. After a brief consideration, he came to a decision and then headed back to the living room.

After all, he really needed that drink.


End file.
